


Room 28

by Neriad



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Mental Health Issues, What-If, maybe AU?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-10-23 21:30:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10727643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neriad/pseuds/Neriad
Summary: «You have to stay quiet, Bruce. Everything is going to be okay.»«Where am I?». He asked with a tremble in his voice. «Did I... Hit my head?»«Oh, no. Bruce», her tone became suddendly sweet, even if the young boy still saw that bloody sort of pity in her look. «You tried to.... You tried to kill yourself. You are in a mental hospital.»





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Hi guys! I'm a newcomer in this fandom and, yeah, I just fell in love with this ship (Bruce/Jerome), even if it's... Uhmm, kinda weird?  
> Anyway, I hope you will like my story: I still don't know where this is going, but I think to include a lot of Gotham's characters, trying to always stay IC.
> 
> Most important thing: I am not native english speaker, but my English is quite fluent. You have to be patient with me! I hope to receive constructive advices and comments.  
> xx

 

''Hello Darkness, my old friend  
(...)  
People talking without speaking.  
People hearing without listening.''  
\- Sound Of Silence.

  
  


I.

  
When he opened his eyes, all he saw was just _white._  
And for the first time in his life, Bruce Wayne realized that white isn't necessarily a good colour: innocence, Heaven, clearness.  
_Oh, no._  
That white was totally different. Dazzling, loathful, fake. Apparently calm, but so _overflow._  
His head hurted and his throat was dry. Bruce tried to sit on the bed – God, that mattress was so rock-hard – and noticed he was dressing a white shirt. White: like the blankets, the walls, the floor and that sad light bulb on the ceiling. How long has he been in the hospital? Two days? A week? Why didn't he remember anything? Did he have a traumatic brain injury? Yet he couldn't see any type of medical equipment: only his dammit rock-hard mattress, a little bedside table, a closet and a window.  
It didn't look like a normal hospital room.  
«Good morning, Mr. Wayne». The dark-haired boy gasped; he didn't note that a women – A nurse, finally! – had opened the door and was staring at him with a nervous smile.  
«Good morning», the young boy replied politely, attempting to assume a composed position, even if he still felt exhausted.  
«How are you?». The nurse stepped closer to Bruce with a glass of water, and on her expression he could read a sort... Pity? «You slept a lot».  
«U-Uhm, thanks», Bruce babbled, taking the water; when he slowly raised the glass to the lips, his shirt sleeve slided and his eyes widened.  
_His wrist was completely bandaged._  
«I... I am fine, I think», he answered after a few seconds, putting the glass on the bedside table. He started to feel violent cold shivers along his back. «Excuse me, but... But I really cant' remember anything... Where is Alfred?»  
The nurse smiled sadly. «You have to stay quiet, Bruce. Everything is going to be okay.»  
«Where am I?». He asked with a tremble in his voice. «Did I... Hit my head?»  
«Oh, no. Bruce», her tone became suddendly sweet, even if the young boy still saw that bloody sort of pity in her look. «You tried to.... You tried to kill yourself. You are in a mental hospital.»    
Bruce stared at her silently.  
«Did I hit my head?», he asked again, after a few minutes, as if he had not listen her words, «I can't remember anything. Where is Alfred?»

  
«I brought everything you need, Master Bruce. Some of your clothes, a lot of jackets, because it's going to be a cold winter; some books – You can read them before going to sleep –, and your personal notebook. Anyway, I am going to visit you every Sunday, so, if you need something else, just let me know... Master Bruce?»  
The young boy was just sitting on the bed, with folded hands and head down.   
Alfred sighed heavily, starting to unpack. He was there for over fifteen minutes –he rushed to the first taxi as soon as the nurse has called him to communicate Bruce's awakening–, and the small boy haven't talked yet.  
Touching Bruce's clothes, Alfred felt chest tightness: the butler clutched a brown cardigan –He still remember the day when he bought it for Bruce, after a bad day at school – and put it in the white closet. He did the same thing with all the trousers and sweaters; he arranged all the books and, in the end, took the little notebook.   
_''Oh, Bruce, how many secrets can you hide?''_  
Yes, Alfred always knew he was... Different. After his parent's death, Alfred knew it would be harder and harder, oh, and painful.   
But he was ready.   
Alfred was ready to save him when he climbed on top of the roof.  
Alfed was ready to protect him from himself, from his obsessions; when he started those absurd tests _to conquer his fears._ A hundred times Alfred found him in front of the fire, trying to burn himself without crying or screaming; a hundred times Alfred found him underwater, measuring his resistence. A hundred times Alfred disinfected his wounds; a hundred times Alfred dried his dark hair, blaming him.  
Alfred thought he was ready for everything, but when, three days ago, he saw the bathtub covered in blood, the sounds of water lapping...   
«I didn't try to kill myself».  
The man raised his head, amazed and relieved to hear his master's voice. «I'm really sorry, Master Bruce, but I can't believe it».  
«It's the truth, Alfred», the small dark-haired boy whispered softly, still looking down. «I was just... »  
«Testing yourself, yes».  
«Yes».  
«Sure».  
«It's the truth, Alfred!». Bruce finally looked his tutor straight in the eyes. ''Bloody Hell'',  Alfred thought to himself, _''he is just fourteen, he is still a child...''_  
«I don't want to stay here another day. Take me back home».  
Alfred stepped closer to the boy. «I can't, Master Bruce. I'm sorry».  
«What does it mean?». The butler now can see him shaking slowly.  
«I can't.»  
«Why?»  
«Because my job is to protect you», he replied with a bitter smile, trying to avoid crying with all his might. _God, he was about to lose him forever._ «and now you are a danger to yourself», he added in the end, taking gently his bandaged wrist.   
Bruce winced and looked away. «I think it is all a big misunderstood».  
«I hope so, Master Bruce». Alfred smiled sadly and, when Bruce turned back to him, he was shocked: his tutor had tears in his eyes.   
«Alfred–», but all words died in his throat when Alfred hugged him sweetly.  
«Everything is going to be fine. I promise you». 

 

 

A nurse with dark curls and a reassuring smile – If his memory was still working, her name was Sarah – calmed him down: since it was his first day, he couldn't take part to the afternoon activities. But he had necessarily to go dinner, which was right at that moment. Sure, Bruce was hungry, but he also felt tired, and, above all, he didn't want to see anyone. He was still shocked by all the events, and, dammit, everything had happened so fast: he couldn't believe he was really in that place and–  
... And then someone knocked on the door.  
Bruce turned his face, paralyzed.   
«Time of dinner!», he heard a female voice, but couldn't say if it was Sarah's one or another nurse.  
The young boy sighed and slowly stood up; his legs were so sore that he was afraid to collapse. When he opened the door, there was nobody. The long hallway –grey floor, white walls and twice plastic chairs –  
was completely desolate; the dark-haired boy took uncertainly the first steps looking around. Maybe he could return to his room and skip the dinner...  
Yeah, of course, if he wasn't so hungry.  
He continued to walk and finally saw a flight of stairs; from below there were a lot of backround noises, words, jiingles, strange laughs.     
The billionaire boy gulped and crept down the steps, hoping everything will be fine. He already missed  Alfred, his big house, his sparkling dining room...   
«You, little thief!». When the young boy reached the ground floor, a strange scene presented to him: the nurse with a reassuring smile, Sarah, was holded the wrist of a girl – probably she was the same age as him – with short blonde hair. «How many times I have to caught you, Selina?»   
«Never enough». The mysterious girl showed a crooked smile and was ready to reply, when her attention went suddendly to Bruce. «What are you looking at, you weirdo?»  
_Dammit._  
Bruce gasped: he really didn't know how to answer. Fortunately the nurse came to his rescue. «Selina! Can you try to be more kind, please? He's a newcomer». Then Sarah smiled to him – _her reassuring expression, like everything is going be fine, in the end_ –. «Come on, Bruce, you have to go eat. You must be hungry».  
The young boy nodded and continued to move, looking at sideways the blonde: she had such a provocative demeanor and pulled out of her sleeve an apple, giggling.  
Down the hallway Bruce met another nurse, a creepy one, who scrutinized him for a few seconds.   
By the way, the canteen was quite big, white, like everything else: there were at least a dozen tables, full of tired eyes, estranged faces and grins. Bruce tried to ignore all of them – just like he did at school, a lot of time ago – and headed to the counter, where he could take plates, napkins and cutlery. A huge woman served him some soup with herbes, a piece of meat and canned veg.  
When Bruce turned around to find a place, he felt like he was being watched by everyone in that room.  
He sat down in a secluded table: there were only two men quite creepy, one with noticeably bright blue eyes and the other with a black pair of glasses.  
Bruce kept the look on his dinner and started to taste the soup, trying to not compare it with Alfred's meals...   
... And then, suddendly, a voice behind his back:   
_«Hi, gorgeous.»_

______________________________________________________________


	2. II.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce is /finally/ going to get acquainted with someone...

  
  


II.

  


As Bruce turned around, he saw a red-headed teen, quite tall, looking at him with a satisfied smile. Oh, and the most important detail: he was dressing a police uniform, so probabily he was a sort of... Guard?  
The youngest boy gulped and put his spoon down before speaking: «Hello, uhm...?»  
«I'm Jerome». The other teen chuckled, without stopping scrutinize Bruce with interest. «Are ya' new here, right?»  
«Yes, erm, I've just arriv–»  
 «Amazing!». Jerome interrupted his answer and gived him a pat on the shoulder. «Welcome, boy. Welcome! I'm sure you're going to have a lot of fun».  
Bruce was completely stunned.  
That red headed teen was not right in the head. _Not at all._ Why the hell did they take  a creepy teen like him as a asylum's guard? Or they were trying to be funny?   
Because, according to Bruce, they were not.   
«Cm'on, kiddo. Smile!». Jerome raised his tone and tilted his head slightly to the left, smirking; his green eyes were so sinister and sparkle that made the brunette cringe. «Don't be shy! What's your name, hm?»  
The billionaire boy held tight his spoon and looked away. That guy really disturbed him. Maybe more than the whole place. «Bruce», he replied shortly, hoping to cut off the conversation.  
«Bruce!», exclaimed the creepy guard with histronic tone. «Well, Bru–»  
«Can you just shut up, you ginger-idiot?». From the other side of the canteen, a deeply female voice broke into the conversation; Bruce turned around, trying to guess where's the voice came from.  
For a second – an extremely short second – Jerome's face clouded over; he didn't resemble human anymore, but then he suddendly bursted out laughing.  
«Don't you like my welcome, Barbara?», he asked wryly, drawing his attention to a blonde women who was sitting alone at a table, with legs crossed and a blank, expressionless face.   
Bruce didn't know what was going on: some patients stopped talking to watch the scene; others seemed used to this foolishness.  
The young women was ready to reply, when the sound of mysterious footsteps got her attention: silence suddenly fell upon the room.  
Jerome was still smiling. He didn't stop smiling even when a big, tall man dark-skinned grabbed roughly his shoulder and slammed him against the wall.   
«How the fuck did you stole this uniform, Jerome?!»  
The red headed teen grinned. «Oh, you know, I was kinda bored».   
Bruce was petrified: everything was happening so fast and–  
«I'm tired of your bullshit». The big man –a guard, _probably a real one_ – hitted him against the wall before let him finally free. «Go change yourself».  
Now Bruce wasn't only shocked: he was simply scared to death. And he seemed the only one: was all this violence... _Normal?_  
Jerome slowly stood up, stumbling: his lips were covered by blood stains, but he didn't looked scared. Not at all. As a matter of fact, he started to laugh uncontrollably, for what it seemed an eternity to Bruce: just then the bilionaire boy understood that Jerome was completely insane.  
«Ow, come on. It was a joke! A really funny joke!», he screamed with satisfaction; before reaching the door, Jerome glanced at the brunette, smiling creeply with incisors covered in blood.  
That night Bruce had trouble sleeping: he could not remove from his mind Jerome's expression.

 

The next morning Bruce got up at six o'clock, even if Sarah told him that breakfast was at half past seven.   
When he remembered where he was – everything so white –, he felt hopeless. He already missed Alfred, his house, his books, his routine. He slowly washed his face in the little  sink, trying with all his might to not look his wrist. He wrote some messy sentences on his notebook, but it didn't help to fell him better, or emptied.  
The young boy closed his eyes and deeply sighed.   
_Oh, Bruce, what have you done?_  
He winced of pain; his mother's voice. Her bittersweet smile when he was a willful child, a lot of times ago.  
His mother...  
Bruce sharply got back to the present and opened the door: he urgently needed to leave his room, at least for a few hours.  
The hallway was desolate, like the previous evening. Through a window with rusted-out bars a very small light broke in, coloring the little chair with pale colors.  
Everything was incredibly sad and static, like in a nostalgic dream.   –So far from the evening, when he met that chaotic and creepy ginger-boy, Jerome. He hoped to never talk to him again.  
He went downstairs; when he was sure there was no one, the billionaire boy heard a faint sound of voices.  
Dammit. He actually wasn't in the mood to talk to any nurses or doctors. Admittedly, he wasn't good at talking to others: he has never been able to make friends.  
Bruce walked away from the place where the noises came from and turned left. He bumped into some closed doors and, at the end of the white hallway, noticed another window, smaller than the first one, with just one security bar in the middle.  
He stood by and looked the soft morning light through it. Suddendly, he felt sleepy and tired: the stream of all his thoughts started to run uncontrollably.   
_Did he really wanted to kill himself?_ He still could not remember. Where did it happened? Maybe in the bathroom?  
Then, a creaking.  
His eyes widened: from the window appeared a pair of black shoes; a white hand, a leather jacket,  messy blonde hair...  
Bruce was totally shocked: _why she was getting in from there?_  
The teen girl seemed particulary flexible: she jumped from the window and lent on her feet without any fear.  
«You?!», she growled at the end, moving close to Bruce in a menacing manner.   
_Oh, now Bruce recognized her._  
«Did you see me, you weirdo?!». The blonde grabbed him by the shirt, staring at him insistently.  
The billionaire boy wasn't unable to reply: God, why didn't he stay in his room?  
«If you don't give me an answer immediately–»  
«Yes! U-Uhm, I mean, I saw you got in from the window, erm...», he stammed out, trying to keep calm. «... But I am not going to tell anyone, I swear».  
The blonde teen scrutinizes him from head to toe. «Do you swear it?»  
Bruce nodded. «Sure».  
«Fine», the girl finally let his shirt. «Usually by this time there is no one».  
«I... I couldn't sleep», admitted Bruce, looked down.   
The girl stared at him for a few seconds, under the sun's light. He looked completely lost. «Why are you here?»  
«What? I've just told you tha–»  
«No», she stopped him, taking off her black gloves. «Why are you in a mental Hospital? I mean, you seem just weird, not insane or bad».   
Bruce shruged his shoulders, uncomfortable.   
The blonde sighed. «How old are you?»  
«I'm fourteen», murmured the brunette. «And you?»  
«I'm fifteen. What's your name, weirdo?»  
«Bruce».  
«I'm Selina».  
«Yeah, the little thief», made fun of her the billionaire boy with a sad smile.  
«Oh-oh». Selina laughed a bit, moving her messy hair. «Really funny». Then, she sat under the window and pulled out of her pocket a chocolate bar. «Do you want a square? Here the breakfast is disgusting, keep it in mind».  
«Where did you take it, erm?»  
«Who cares», cut short Selima, started to eat. «So...?»  
«Alright, I love chocolate». Bruce finally sat near the girl, trying to not soil his trousers. Meanwhile Selima gived him a piece of chocolate. «Come on, eat. You're too thin».  
Bruce frowned at her. «No, I'm not».  
«Yes, you are». Selina seemed amused by the brunette's inexperience. «By the way, I remember the day when the ambulance took you here. You was unconscious. There was also a tall man with grey hair... Your dad, I guess.»  
«Oh, Alfred. No, he is my butler».  
Selima giggled and laid her back against the wall. «Sure».  
«I'm serious», Bruce replied as fast as possible, a bit embarrassed. «Alfred is really my butler».  
The girl slowly chewed the last piece of chocolate, looking the smaller. «Yeah, he is? So you have to be rich, o something like this».  
Bruce nodded and didn't say anything for a few minutes; he just finished his chocolate, thoughful. «Well, uhm, If I might ask, why are you here?»  
«It's just a provisional accommodation», after this short answer, Selina got up. «I must return to my room and changed myself. You never saw me here, right?»  
«Right, don't worry».  
«See you soon, Bruce». So she turned and walked away, leaving Bruce alone.

_______________________________________________

 

Notes: Hey guys! I'm so sorry for being late: unfortunately with University it isn't easy for me to have free time, ew.  
I hope you like this short second chapter: I'm going to update as soon as possible, meanwhile... Leave a comment, please! <3  
xx


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